


I'd follow you into hell if you asked me to

by AutisticMob



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alchemy, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Dysphoria, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gender Confirmation "Surgery", Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, Light Angst, Living Together, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Intimacy, One Shot, Oneshot, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Riza Hawkeye, Trans Roy Mustang, author knows fuckall about medical stuff, surgery in quotes because it's fucking alchemy, tl;dr: trans fucking rights, transmasc author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-09-24 22:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20366059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticMob/pseuds/AutisticMob
Summary: New developments in gender confirming alchemy easily and effortlessly allow anyone to instantly change their sex characteristics to match their proper gender.Riza and Roy decide that they should both probably get the procedure done. The two of them decide to do it together, just like everything else in their lives as of late.





	I'd follow you into hell if you asked me to

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kunikidazai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunikidazai/gifts).

> Guess what animanga series I got into lol <s>fuck FMAB for making me unironically like two M/F ships</s>
> 
> Sorry for the long period of inactivity, I recently moved into my college dorm and started university, and the transition kinda took a toll on me and kept me from writing for some time. 
> 
> Thanks so much for your patience, as well as your continued readership and support. If you like my works, please leave kudos or a comment.

“Good morning. Did you enjoy sleeping in?” Riza asks with a smile, glancing at her boyfriend standing in the doorway to their kitchen, his black hair disheveled and white button-down open to reveal a constellation of purple hickies littering the skin of his neck and collarbones.

“Mmm...what time is it?” Roy mumbles, exhaustion weighing heavy on his eyelids. 

Riza’s eyes travel to the old wooden clock mounted on the wall, its shiny gold pendulum swinging unceasing with each passing second. She presses a warm coffee mug into Roy’s calloused, scarred hand, her expression unreadable. “Eight thirty.”

Roy’s eyes widen in surprise as he almost spits out his coffee. “Eight thirty? I could’ve sworn I set my alarm for this morning to six.”

“Maybe it’s broken.” Riza shrugs, but the brief spark of mischief that flashes in her eyes says otherwise. “You’ve been using it since the war ended, right?”

“That’s true. Still…” Roy pauses, taking a seat at their old wooden dining table with a quiet sigh. “I think it’s much more likely that a certain...girlfriend of mine has been tampering with it.” A wry smile graces his lips as he unfolds the newspaper Riza had left at his spot earlier in the morning.

“Should we eat breakfast?” Riza questions, eager to change the subject as she finds her seat across from Roy, a mug of her favorite Earl Gray tea sending a cloud of steam up into the air from its place in her hand.

“Do you want me to make you something?” Roy cringes to himself as he remembers his overbearing grandmother teaching her ‘granddaughter’ how to cook, a skill she pedaled as ‘something every woman should know’ in order to ‘serve her husband’. Images flash in his mind of the plump, cheery woman flitting about the cramped kitchen, demanding in her shrill voice that her boyish young relative pay attention.

Riza takes a long sip of her tea before replying, “I’m definitely not going to try and cook again. The fire department has enough on their plate as it is.” 

A chuckle rises from Roy’s throat, “that’s probably a good idea. I don’t know how many more kitchen fires I can pass off as alchemy mishaps before they start to get suspicious.”

“Thanks, by the way. For taking the blame for that, I mean. I don’t think they believed you, but…” 

Roy silences his girlfriend with a wave of his hand, “you don’t need to thank me for that kind of thing, you know. Consider it a favor. Outside of the office, we’re both equals.” 

“Speaking of which…” Riza shoots a glance at the wall-mounted clock once more, “isn’t our appointment in an hour and a half?”

Roy raises an eyebrow, finishing off the last of his coffee. “Do you not want to eat?”

“I figured I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

A nervous laugh tumbles from Riza’s cherry-colored lips, “I’m a little nervous, so I don’t want to end up with an upset stomach.”

A hazy flush creeps hot into Roy’s cheeks, “you should allow me to treat you to lunch after the procedure. If you want, that is. I won’t force you, obviously, but...” his words disappear into nothing, much like the steam dissolving into the air from the surface of Riza’s cup.

“O-Of course…besides, I owe you for not being able to have kids.” Riza’s lips press into a tight frown, and she casts her gaze towards the floor.

“Kids? I didn’t know you were thinking that far ahead, Riza.”

“I...um…” Riza stammers, the redness from her cheeks overtaking her entire face. She shifts about in her chair, uncomfortable at having revealed her desire to start a family with a man she’d been dating for around three years. The tension in the air thickens, and the eggshell-colored walls of their homey kitchen turn into those of a prison born from unspoken feelings.

Roy lowers his newspaper and shatters the silence, his expression twisting into the serious solemnity that Riza knows like the back of her hand, having familiarized herself with it during the countless hours she’d spent by his side on the battlefield. 

“You don’t owe me that. You don’t owe me anything, Riza. All I want is for you to stay by my side. Your worth as a woman isn’t measured by whether your body can bear offspring. Every human has value for simply being alive. You and I both know that.” Roy offers a warm smile, his gaze softening as his stern expression melts into one of earnest compassion, bordering on lovesick. 

Riza’s heart jumps into her throat, stealing the words off her tongue. She extends a trembling hand over the faded surface of the table, her fingers tracing the wood grain stuffed to the seams with the treasured moments she and Roy had made together. Sepia memories seep into her mind in rapid fire, of nights both somber and bright, shared in tears and laughter, of making love and sweet romance. 

Roy’s hand meets hers, rough and calloused. His thumb brushes over Riza’s knuckles as he admires how feminine her hands have become over the years, pale and slender, not unlike his used to be. He catches Riza’s gaze in his own, her amber eyes drawing the breath from his lungs just as they had back then, too.

Riza’s hands tremble, as do her shoulders beneath her pink sweater. A tear rolls down her flushed cheeks, and more follow suit after several moments of trying in vain to blink them away. Roy’s other hand finds its way to her warm, soft cheek stained in a trail of silver tears, his thumb brushing across her trembling pink lips. 

It’s as if Roy’s fire isn’t created by alchemy at all, instead burning beneath his skin, ready and waiting to be summoned at a moment’s notice. Riza leans into it, the warmth of Roy’s fire eager to protect its master’s most beloved. 

“It’ll be okay. Besides, we can always adopt. Our dream of being a perfect family is totally plausible.” Roy breathes as he wipes Riza’s tears.

“Sorry,” Riza laughs, smiling through her tears, “the HRT makes me emotional.”

Roy laughs too, nodding in agreement despite the fact that the both of them have been on HRT for over eight years.

“Now…” his face inches closer to Riza’s, enough so that the both of them can feel the other’s breath against each other’s lips, “we should probably be on our way soon.”

Riza stares into Roy’s obsidian-colored eyes, the familiar flame of his love burning in their gray-brown depths. “Of course, colonel…” she teases.

Their lips meet in a flurry of sparks, hot and passionate and not unlike the soft orange glow that dances between Roy’s fingers in the moments he spends lighting candles for the sappy yet heartfelt romantic dinners he hosts for the two of them every week without fail.

When Roy pulls away, Riza can feel the hesitance sparking in his muscles, a reluctant sigh tumbling from his lips as his hands fall to his sides. “I should probably go make myself presentable. I don’t want anyone thinking I’ve gone soft,” Roy mutters, disappearing down the hallway and into their shared bedroom. 

His trembling fingers fumble with the buttons on his shirt, revealing his well-muscled torso and euphoria-inducingly flat chest. Despite ten years having passed since he traded with Riza, he still pinches himself every time he looks in the mirror as to reassure himself that this isn’t all but a pleasant, dysphoria-induced dream. 

“Now to fix up the bottom part,” Roy mumbles to himself as he changes into something more befitting of a renowned and respected colonel. 

In the bathroom, he has a staring contest with the hickies lining his neck as he brushes his teeth, his fingers ghosting over the marks. Riza enters the bathroom, her fingers tangled in her long blonde hair as she pulls it into a ponytail.

“Your neck…” she murmurs as she steps closer to her boyfriend, examining the hickies. Several moments pass in awkward silence of her staring at them before Roy sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“There’s no way to cover them up…” Roy groans in irritation but can’t bring himself to regret the previous night, the last hours of his life with the body he hated spent drowning in pleasure and breathing in the fading scent of Riza’s perfume. He wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Riza nods, dark blush spreading across her cheeks, “I-I’m sure she's seen much weirder things. I mean…”

“When you rearrange peoples’...junk for a living, there’s likely a point where you stop caring about something so inconsequential.” Roy says with a wave of his hand, the heat in his cheeks undeniable regardless. Despite having had months to mull the idea over, it’s still no less foreign than it was back then.

Uncomfortable silence hangs in the air like a thick fog as Riza applies her makeup, contouring as to accentuate the more feminine aspects of her face after years of being told how feminine she _wasn’t_, the invisible scars of transmisogyny drawn across every inch of her skin. Roy absentmindedly brushes his hair as he watches Riza perform her daily going-out ritual with mechanical precision. It helps to have something else to focus on, he thinks, his mind dragging him down the darkened halls of his memory to when his hair was still long and everyone called him the name he’s long since killed and said what a beautiful ‘girl’ he was, dodging his glassy-eyed stare all the while. He revels in every part of his life that reads ‘male’; it’s a welcome relief from the childhood he’d spent drowning in a sea of misgendering.

“Do you think you’ll miss it?” The words tumble from Riza’s lips without so much as a moment’s hesitation. 

Roy holds back a sigh of relief, grateful that Riza voiced what he was much too scared to say, afraid of coming across as stupid or strange despite knowing that his girlfriend had yet to pass judgement on him in the three years they’d been dating.

“No,” he says, but his voice trembles. Riza gives a solemn nod, finishing off her makeup look with a rose-colored lipstick that’s too gaudy for Roy’s taste, as he’s gotten much too used to seeing Riza in her bare-faced natural beauty. 

“Are you ready? We should leave as soon as we can, since Jade’s place is about an hour's drive from here.”

Riza places her makeup bag back in the cabinet, and the two exit the bathroom in an antsy, uneasy silence, making their way down the hallway and towards the door in a solemn march, as if heading to the gallows for the crimes both of them had committed during the civil war years prior.

Still, she smiles at Roy’s stupid, mismatched socks as they’re quickly covered by his shoes. Riza follows suit, opting for a pair of simple white wedges that match her top. Giddy eagerness interlaced with inevitable anxiety blooms in her chest at the thought of never having to tuck again. She’s never quite considered the concept, the act of daily tucking having long since faded into a necessary evil, not unlike bitter vitamin supplements or routine, mundane doctor’s visits. It’s been part of her life for so long that the thought of losing it sparks a strange flame of anxiety in her stomach, the alarm bells sounding off in her brain flooding her body with a wave of panic-induced adrenaline and making her tremble beneath the confusion swirling like a violent storm inside her. 

Roy’s fingers brush against her knuckles, their warmth sending calmness creeping through her, climbing up her arm and spreading into her chest like a flame. Riza knows it could destroy her with ease if she lets it, but that’s a risk she’s willing to take. His hand slides around her waist, across the curve of her hip that she knows will _never_ deliver to she and Roy the family they so want, at the cost of both of their desire to be ‘normal’, whatever that means.

Riza finds her place in the passenger seat, a strategic position for glancing out at the passing scenery, if she so desires.

But she doesn’t, because she’s too busy watching Roy’s face scrunch up in concentration as he drives, his anxiety manifesting in his white-knuckled vice grip on the steering wheel and on the sharp lines of worry drawn into his face, grim and silent. 

The curtain of silence between the two of them isn’t so bad as it is uncomfortable, stilted and nervous enough that Riza wonders if Roy wouldn’t be able to light it aflame with a snap of his fingers. 

Outside, the gray monotony of Central fades into green countryside, the road beneath them turning into bumpy gravel, the car jumping with every dip in the uneven path. 

“This place is pretty off the beaten path, hm?”

“Yeah.”

That’s the end of the conversation, and Riza is okay with it. Roy’s curtness is something she’s long since become accustomed to anyways, and it’s a part of him she sees often when he’s on edge.

Several more drawn-out moments of tense silence pass before the car pulls to a halt in the gravel driveway of a quaint brick building flanked by several other similar-looking ones. 

Roy climbs out of the car and moves to open the door for Riza, earning a small ‘thanks’ and a warm smile, easing the raging storm of anxiety brewing in his gut. He walks with intent towards the door, Riza in tow, giving several hard raps against the old wooden door. 

A beat of silence shuffles past with no response, and a quiet sigh falls from Roy’s lips. “She’s always been like this, even in our military days.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, the door creaks open to reveal a woman in a casual white blazer and pink skirt, her brown hair put up into a loose, messy ponytail. A bright smile blooms across her lips the moment her eyes come to rest on Roy.

“Oh, Roy! I’ve been expecting you! It’s been aaaages since I’ve seen you! How long has it been, I wonder?” The woman chirps, hands on her hips. “You’ve become much manlier, wowie!”

“It’s been a while, yes.” Roy gives a solemn nod. 

“Please, come in!” 

Riza thanks the woman and steps inside, following close behind Roy. 

“Hello, sweetheart. Are you Roy’s wife?” The woman asks, her tone saccharine and soaked in a comforting, almost motherly sweetness. 

Riza’s cheeks flush dark pink, and Roy casts his gaze towards the floor, a similar heat creeping into his face. She gives a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of her neck, “oh, n-no. Roy and I are just dating, we aren’t married.”

“Jade, if you will…” Roy mutters, lip quivering in an effort to keep himself together.

“Oh, right! I’m sorry, I guess I got a little carried away! Anyways, follow me.”

Roy presses his hand against the small of Riza’s back, warm yet firm, guiding her down the welcoming yellow hall of Jade’s home clinic. Paintings of various naturescapes hang scattered on the walls, side-by-side with faded sepia photos of countless smiling people. It’s comforting, Riza thinks, and she can’t help but smile at the pictures of parents holding their happy young children and couples of all genders embracing each other for the camera. 

“Here we are!” Jade chirps, pushing open a door towards the end of the hallway. A sign hangs tacked on the door that reads ‘TREATMENT IN PROGRESS — PLEASE DO NOT DISTURB’ in thick, angry black font.

Roy enters the room with hesitance, an air of uneasiness clinging to him as he takes a seat in one of the room’s strangely comfortable medical chairs, both of which sandwich a small, faded wooden desk. 

“What did you say your name was, honey?” Jade asks Riza as she closes the door, rolling up the sleeves of her blazer. 

“Riza Hawkeye.”

Jade smiles, “Riza. Be a dear and sit down over there for me, would you?” 

Riza nods, taking a cautious seat in the chair beside Roy, whose unflinching gaze is fixated forward on something that Riza can’t see. 

“Alright,” Jade clasps her hands together, cheerful as ever, “I’m sure both of you are fully aware of what is about to happen, correct?”

Roy nods, and Jade casts her kind, patient glance towards Riza. 

“More or less.”

A laugh bubbles from Jade’s lips like a stream. “It’s simple, just a quick transmutation. I’ll be rearranging a few things here and there, that way you both can have the bodies you want.”

Riza nods, eager to begin a new chapter of her life, right alongside the man she plans to spend the rest of it with. 

Jade’s expression turns serious, face darkening. “You two understand that this procedure will render the both of you infertile, correct? Unfortunately, there’s no way to bypass this effect, even despite all the recent advancements in gender confirming alchemy,” Jade sighs, folding her hands in her lap. 

“Yes. Riza and I both understand that neither of us will be able to have children after this,” Roy says, voice flat and expression all but unreadable. 

Riza glances towards the floor, a deep sadness welling up inside her. She clutches her chest as a few stray tears roll down her cheeks, and Roy’s hand finds its way to her arm, giving it a soft squeeze of reassurance. Jade shoots her a concerned look, placing her own hand atop Riza’s.

“I—s-sorry, it’s...I knew I’d never have children, but...it still upsets me,” Riza murmurs, sniffling as she wipes her tears using the back of her hand. 

“It’s alright, dear. I felt the same way when I went through the procedure myself.”

Riza’s eyes widen, her glossy lips parting in surprise. “You mean...you…you’re a trans woman too, then?”

Jade laughs, hearty and full as she clutches her stomach. “Yep! Roy can tell you aaaaall about our days in the military.”

Roy scoffs, rolling his eyes in jest. “No thanks.”

“I’ll show you, dear,” Jade says, opening the dresser between either chair’s single drawer and producing a small, round container that resembles powdered blush, along with a photograph.

“Here,” Jade presses the photo into Riza’s hands, and she stares down at it, mouth agape. 

“This was you?” Riza asks, fixated on the masculine-looking person in the image. Her hair was much shorter then, shorter even than Roy’s, and the beginnings of a full face of hair show through in her five o’clock shadow. Her transformation had been even more radical than Riza’s, and her heart flutters in warm solidarity at the lovely woman kneeling before her. 

Of course, Riza takes a moment to look at Roy as well, a smile gracing her lips. He was as handsome as ever back then, his face rounder and more feminine and his hair shorter. A small laugh falls from her lips, and she catches Roy blushing a deep red in her peripheral. He clears his throat, folding his arms across his chest. 

“Seriously, Jade? You saved such an embarrassing picture? I thought I could trust you of all people to keep my embarrassing old pictures hidden,” Roy scolds.

Jade laughs and shakes her head, “sorry, Roy! It was way too good to _not_ save it. Besides, I look way more embarrassing! You look just fine.”

“It's fine, Roy. You’re handsome.” Riza reassures him in her gentle yet assertive scolding tone, handing the photo back to Jade and forcing the heat in Roy’s cheeks to spread up his face and into his ears. 

“I hate to ruin the moment, but if I may…?” Jade raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, right. I’m very sorry.” Riza gives a curt apology and a small bow. 

Everything blurs into a disordered mess of memories like scattered polaroids the moment Jade dips her thumb into the strange black powder and draws two opposing transmutation circles on either of their stomachs. 

Roy clutches Riza’s hand atop the desk, their fingers interlaced in a tight, white knuckled grip. Roy’s hands are always warm, no matter how cold things around him become. Riza has appreciated it ever since she’d first met him, but she loves it even more in the moment, her boyfriend’s warm and calloused palm pressed against hers. She’s so consumed in the gentle, protective warmth that Jade’s hand against her stomach doesn’t register until the bizarre, momentary shifting inside her body starts up. It’s not painful, just uncomfortable. Still, it’s over in the blink of an eye, and Riza wonders for the briefest moment if the transmutation failed. 

Jade’s hand disappears from her stomach, and she realizes it has most certainly _not_ failed. Riza wonders if she should say something, her brain answering for her with an involuntary ‘oh’.

Jade chuckles, dusting the chalky black substance from her hands and gives both of them a thumbs up. “How are you feeling? Is everything alright?” 

Roy nods, “I can’t complain.” His voice is laced in nonchalance, his shamelessness sending heat flooding into Riza’s cheeks. He shoots her a sidelong, smug glance, the unspoken heat of desire between the two of them laid bare by stupid, handsome Roy and his big mouth.

Jade claps Riza on the shoulder. “Riza? It’s a bit strange, hm? Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it!” Jade reassures, and Riza nods in reply. 

Roy rises from his chair with a content sigh and extends a hand to his girlfriend, eager to make a show of treating Riza like a queen and to dispell the air of awkwardness coating the room like a thick blanket. 

Riza takes Roy’s hand, lifting herself from the chair. “Thank you very much, Miss Jade,” she says, grateful beyond words to the woman who’d changed both of their lives in an instant. How unpredictable and mutable human lives were, as ever-changing as alchemy itself. 

Poetic, Riza thinks. “What can we do to repay you?”

Jade laughs, shaking her head, “oh no, it’s okay. Roy said he’d deposit the payment for the procedure into my bank account! Besides, seeing the both of you happy is payment enough. Helping fellow trans people live their best lives gives me a reason to continue my job!”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive!” Jade holds the door for Riza and Roy as they make their way down the cheerful yellow hall, newfound confidence in both of their steps. A jovial flame dances in Roy’s dark brown eyes, and the lines drawn into his face from countless years of stress fades into momentary oblivion, as if the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders. 

Roy stops in front of the door, hand resting atop the doorknob. Jade appears at the end of the hall, hands folded behind her back and a sunny smile lighting up her sepia face. “Byebye, Roy and Miss Riza!” She gives a small wave as she speaks, lilting and like a song. 

“Goodbye. Thanks for your help, Jade. If you ever need any favors, feel free to contact me,” Roy says, curt but polite. 

Laughter bubbles from Jade’s lips, “I’ll be sure to let you know if I need anything, Roy.”

Roy nods, pushing open the door and stepping out into the warm summer afternoon, the breeze combing its fingers through his short black hair. Riza follows behind, lingering in the threshold of the doorway for a moment, casting a glance over her shoulder at Jade one last time. She mouths a silent thanks, but the gratitude in her eyes is enough for Jade to get the memo. 

With Roy’s arm around her waist, the couple make their way towards the car parked in the gravel driveway, Jade’s clinic shrinking in size with every step away. Roy pulls open the passenger side door for Riza, pressing a chaste kiss against her temple as his hand slides across the small of her back. He sits in the driver’s seat beside Riza, his right hand creeping down onto her thigh.

Heat creeps into Riza’s cheeks, and she finds herself once again staring at Roy as he drives, a smug grin drawn across his lips. The silence between them is painful and stifling, and Riza sighs as she places her hand atop Roy’s, caressing the transmutation circle burned into the pale flesh of his hand. “Roy…”

“Hm?”

“How are you feeling? It’s strange, isn’t it?”

Roy shoots Riza a sidelong glance, understanding flashing unspoken in his eyes. “A bit.”

“It’s hard for me to believe that this is real. It still kind of feels like a dream, almost like everything that just happened was a figment of my imagination…” Riza says.

Roy nods, “maybe because it happened so quickly,” he suggests. 

Another beat of uncomfortable silence. “Are you disappointed?” 

Riza shakes her head. “Of course not. I’m ecstatic. I have the body I always wanted now, but...I guess it’s just the strain of adjusting to such a massive change out of nowhere.”

Roy gives a hum of agreement. “It’s stressful, but we’ll manage.” He pauses for a moment, pondering what he should say to ease Riza’s worries. 

A single deep breath later, and the words flow from his lips with confidence, “I’ll stay by your side, no matter what.”

His words pierce deep into Riza’s chest, spearing her heart with a fiery confidence only Roy can create. Riza’s breath catches in her throat as tears prick the corners of her eyes. 

“I know you will. We’ll do it together.”

“Like a great woman once said,” Roy chuckles, “I’d follow you into hell if you asked me to."


End file.
